A Human Obsession
by beckyofdownton
Summary: Two weeks after Enterprise launches into its five-year mission, Spock finds himself alone on board when the entire crew comes down with a flu-like sickness. When Spock is forced to care for his captain during a bad fever, Jim reveals a truth that was never meant to be told. Rated M. Spock/Kirk.
1. Chapter 1

_Author's Note: I'm trying to raise the quality of my writing in my fan fiction, so I hope this is satisfactory!  
_

_I took some liberties with how the new Enterprise was rebuilt; I modelled it after the 1701-D. There is now a ship's counsellor, a common area similar to Ten-Forward, replicators and more. I figured that after the events in San Francisco, the government would pour a lot of money into the refurbishment of Star Fleet's flag ship._

_Lastly, sorry about the re-post. There were too many egregious typoes in order to just update the chapter._

* * *

"In short, Captain, the inhabitants of this planet are still only in the relative stone age. It would be inadvisable to make any sort of contact with the planet whatsoever."

Jim Kirk leaned forward, elbows on the table. The planet in question was revolving slowly outside the window. It was an odd, red planet surrounded by a lone silver ring. It was beautiful. At first glance, the planet appeared uninhabitable, but after several tests, it was confirmed that this planet was, in fact, M-class and could sustain humanoid life. This planet was a remarkable breakthrough in interplanetary studies and most of the crew was dying to investigate it.

"Spock, how could we pass up a completely red planet with a breathable atmosphere?" Jim asked.

"He's right, Mr. Spock." Hikaru Sulu interjected. "There's no way we could just leave this planet alone."

"We have no idea what these entities look like." Spock replied, "It could be impossible to form a plausible disguise for the landing party. It may be completely impossible to disguise ourselves as the inhabitants."

"We know they're humanoid, Spock, the scans proved that." Jim argued. "And it's not like we haven't gone on stealth missions before."

"Captain, I would remind you of the last time this ship visited an M-Class planet without proper disguise." Spock said.

"It _was_ fun. Am I right, Sulu?" Jim asked, leaning towards Hikaru with a grin.

Spock knew full well that Jim was behaving like this solely to aggravate him.

"Absolutely, Captain! I had never docked a star ship in an ocean before." Sulu grinned back.

"I was nearly killed." Spock interjected bluntly.

Jim sighed.

"I know, Spock."

Leaning back in his chair, he looked around the table of his highest ranking officers.

"We're going to have to fly on. Star Fleet Command will have my ass on a platter if I try to pull of another stunt like what I did on Nibiru." Jim sighed.

"Thank you for seeing reason." Spock said, shuffling his papers.

Jim narrowed his eyes. "Don't get all smug, Spock."

Spock raised an eyebrow and turned to gather his belongings. Life on the new Enterprise had not been very different from life on the old, except for the unsettling knowledge that the ship and crew were alone in deep space for five long years. Spock had acclimatized rather well to life on board the ship but after only a couple days in space, Dr. McCoy's sick bay had been absolutely packed to bursting with patients. Apparently the ship's climate and gravity control had been off by a few fractions of a degree and, as a consequence, nearly every human on board had suffered from something akin to sea sickness. Dr. McCoy, for all intents and purposes, had been calling it "gravity sickness". Most of the crew had recovered but, after that incident, the Captain appointed a counsellor to deal with emotional stress caused by the malfunction. This slight malfunction reminded the whole crew that if the ship were to suddenly stop working for any reason, they were stranded many, many light years from any sort of aid at all.

The sickness had made Jim extraordinarily difficult to deal with and the pressure was starting to take its toll on Spock. On board, Jim was the only person Spock had any rapport with at all. It was no secret that the events in San Francisco two years ago had elevated him to a certain level of fame on board the Enterprise but it was also working in the opposite manner. Either people were too afraid to talk to him or were intimidated by him. Spock had spent the last two weeks since they had left Earth in largely the same manner: trying to get Jim to come to his senses while being teamed up against by the rest of the crew and officers. Jim was showing no signs of recovery so far and without Jim, Spock was entirely alone.

Spock had learned not to linger after meetings. He had nothing to say to anyone and for the most part, they had nothing to say to him. Despite the ordeals that the crew had been through together, Spock still knew very little about his fellow shipmates. The meetings always ended in the same manner: Hikaru and Pavel always left together, followed quickly by Nyota and then by Leonard and Scotty. After the break up, Nyota did not stick around very long for conversation. Jim usually left last, leaving Spock to his own devices.

Today, however, Jim hovered by the door, inspecting one of the ornamental plants.

"Captain." Spock said coming up behind him.

"Spock!" Jim said. "Look, I wanted to tell you that I'm sorry."

"For what, Sir?" Spock asked, feigning ignorance of Jim's inappropriate behaviour.

"For being a jerk, that's what. I shouldn't have shot you down like that in front of everyone." Jim replied.

"Apology accepted." Spock said calmly. "Can I escort you back to your quarters?"

"I'd like that, Spock, but I'm due in Sick Bay for another one of Bones' damn exams." Jim sighed, walking out of the room. He stifled a cough and waited for Spock to join him.

Spock followed, his clipboard tucked under his arm.

"The sickness is persistent." Spock observed, looking Jim over quickly. Even though most of the crew had recovered, Spock had noted that it had taken Jim an excessively long time to come back from the illness.

"Yeah, I feel like a sack of crap." Jim sighed. "I haven't eaten anything solid for the past three days."

"Captain, might I suggest trying Vulcan food? It is much... lighter than human food. It may help." Spock said.

"I can't fathom a meatless diet, Spock." Jim laughed.

"From what you have just told me, Sir, it would be logical to assume you have survived without meat for the past three days and you can therefore survive several more. Our food is highly nutritious. I recommend plomeek broth. Its restorative powers are renowned on Vulcan." Spock stated.

"Comfort food?" Jim asked, stepping into the turbolift.

"Yes, inasmuch." Spock nodded. "I believe the replicator has been programmed with the necessary recipe."

"Are you telling me you've been at the protein resequencers already? We've only had them for two weeks." Jim laughed.

"Not a protein resequencer, Captain, a replicator. Very different." Spock corrected him.

Jim rolled his eyes.

"There is nothing wrong with assuring that our new equipment is operating within acceptable parameters." Spock argued, stepping off the turbolift after Jim and following him down the hall.

"Spock, don't you have somewhere to be?" Jim asked, stopping outside of the door to Sick Bay and turning to look up at Spock.

Spock had not consciously realized he had followed Jim all the way down here and it came as a slight shock when Jim pointed it out. It was highly illogical of him to have done so when Jim had clearly stated he did not need an escort. Spock had been catching himself doing odd things like this lately; he had begun to wonder if the gravity sickness had effected him in some way after all.

"Absolutely, Captain. I will be on my way." Spock replied.

"Not that it's a bad thing, I'm just wondering." Jim chuckled.

Spock turned to leave and walk back towards the elevator, but he was stopped when Jim called after him.

"Spock! I'd love for you to show me the ropes of Vulcan chess. You've been talking so much about it." Jim called.

Spock turned around, eyebrow raised.

"Certainly." Spock replied, caught slightly off guard by the odd request.

"Sounds good. Let's meet after my appointment? Maybe around 2000 hours?" Jim suggested. "And Spock, call me Jim."

Spock nodded and waited for Jim to disappear into Sick Bay before he got back into the elevator. He had decided to head up to the common area to set up the board and to perhaps get something to eat before meeting with Jim. Spock had been perplexed by Jim's initial interest in Vulcan chess. He had thought that Jim would be the last person on this ship to consider playing it but, one night in the common area, he had watched Spock set up and play a round with one of the communication officers on board. In the short amount of time that Jim had watched, he had picked up on some of Spock's tactics and had even ruined a play by blurting out what Spock's next move would be.

_A human prodigy at Vulcan chess. What an oddity. _Spock thought as he stepped off the lift and into the large common area. It was laid out similarly to a restaurant – tables, chairs, an artificial fireplace and even a wet bar for those interested. Spock made his way entirely out of reflex to the table in the corner nearest to the starboard window. He had been sitting there regularly every day. He was rarely disturbed there and he found it a rather comfortable spot to both complete paperwork and to observe the goings-on on board the ship. From this vantage point he had observed, in only two weeks, the various and subtle changes in relationships amongst the crewman. For instance, he observed last week that Hikaru Sulu had become romantically involved with a fellow lieutenant by the name of Alexander Wellesley. On another occasion he had made significant progress in his understandings of human dining rituals by observing two ensigns sharing a meal. Spock had decided weeks ago that if he was going to be alone on board this ship he should at least make use of the time for observation and research.

The time moved quickly and Spock had set up the board just in time for Jim to appear at the turbolift at 2000 hours. Spock realized that he was quite looking forward to teaching Jim to play; It had been quite a while since he had had found a proper match in a Vulcan chess opponent. He thought it very likely that he had found one in Jim.

It took Jim several minutes to cross the area as people kept stopping to chat with him.

_He is well admired_, Spock thought, lining the figures up meticulously on the board while he waited.

"Sorry I'm late." Jim sighed, pulling out the chair next to Spock.

"You are exactly two minutes late. Hardly an inconvenience." Spock replied cooly.

"Right." Jim chuckled, leaning forward onto the table.

"Are you in good health?" Spock asked, both following the human custom to enquire as to a person's well-being and to verify that Jim was, in fact, on the mend. His illness was adding extra stress to Spock's already stressful existence.

"Apparently now I'm just fighting off some kind of stomach bug and it's totally unrelated to the gravity sickness. Just my luck." Jim said, coughing into his sleeve. "Didn't we sterilize this place completely before we left? How could a stomach bug have snuck on board?

"It is most unfortunate." Spock replied, raising an eyebrow. He noticed that the circles under Jim's eyes had darkened dramatically since they had last spoken outside of sick bay and he appeared much more pale. "Captain, my apologies if it is inappropriate to say so, but you look exhausted. Would you prefer to reschedule?"

Jim shook his head. "I'm just a little off. I'm still sharp as a tack."

"Very well, then." Spock said, "Let us begin."

* * *

Spock walked Jim through the game slowly. Despite his objections, Spock was fairly certain that Jim was too sick to be playing Vulcan chess. Jim was having trouble remembering some of the more basic rules he had picked up the first time he had seen the game played and it was troubling to Spock. 2000 hours turned into 2100 hours and by 2130, Jim's condition had worsened dramatically.

"Captain, I have to insist that I escort you to your quarters and call Dr. McCoy to tend to you." Spock said after putting the board away despite Jim's protests.

"Spock, I'm not a little kid. I can walk myself back to my own quarters." Jim said, his voice groggy.

"I must insist." Spock replied, standing up. "I do not want to have to force you."

Jim looked up at Spock through bleary eyes, his brow furrowed. He looked for a moment as if he were about to protest but changed his mind and nodded. "I guess you're right."

Spock helped Jim to his feet. He knew that Jim was suffering from a fever and that it would only get worse the longer he was on his feet so Spock tried to move as quickly as possible. By the time they had made it into the turbolift, Jim was gripping Spock's arm in order to stay standing.

"Spock, I don't think I should report for duty tonight..." Jim mumbled, leaning against Spock's arm.

"I have to agree, Captain." Spock replied, feeling slightly uncomfortable at the close physical contact.

"Jim. Please, call me Jim." Jim replied, managing a little laugh.

It was a short walk from the turbolift to Jim's quarters, but Spock found he was carrying the captain more than he was helping him walk. Jim admitted them into his room with a quick voice command. It was decorated with various Earth art and was rather cozy for standard-issue living quarters. Spock had never stopped to think before of the manner in which Jim would decorate the place he lived. His own quarters were rather spartan save for the candles he used for meditation before sleep. He felt slightly awkward helping Jim into his bedroom; something inside him was telling him being there was indecent.

Spock sat Jim down on the edge of the bed and crouched down in front of him.

"Please stay here while I page Dr. McCoy." Spock said to Jim.

Jim managed a nod and hung his head in his hands. Spock moved out of the bedroom and back into the main area.

"Spock to Dr. McCoy." Spock said into the communicator near the front door.

"This is McCoy."

"Doctor, your assistance is required in Captain Kirk's quarters. He is suffering from a rapid onset fever and I am... concerned."

Spock paused for a moment, slightly unsure about his choice of words.

"I'll be there as soon as I can, Spock, but we're swamped here. If he's in his quarters he's following my orders."

"Your orders, Doctor?"

"I told him to head straight to bed after his appointment. I gave him a shot of acetaminophen and told him to get his ass up there... He didn't do that did he? Dammit, I should have known to send him to bed with three armed escorts."

"You are correct, Doctor, he and I played chess at length in the common area before I insisted that I escort him to his quarters."

"Spock, I honestly think he'll be fine. I knew he was running a fever but it's nothing serious."

"Humans have a tendency to meningitis and other lethal illnesses characterized by prolonged elevated body temperatures."

"Well aren't you a ray of sunshine? And no, they haven't. Not for a couple hundred years, at least. I checked him out not two hours ago. He's fine. I'll be there as soon as I can or if I can spare someone."

"Understood, Doctor. Good day."

"Wait, wait, wait. Actually, Spock, you could be helpful. You're not on shift tonight, right?"

"No."

"Alright. Well, just stick around with him. Take his temperature. Put him to bed. Just make sure he doesn't do anything stupid like get up and try to leave. He's stubborn like that."

"Dr. McCoy, I am not a nurse." Spock said, balking slightly at the suggestion.

"Nor did I call you one. Just tuck him in and read him a story. I'll be there in an hour. McCoy out."

The line went dead and Spock stood staring at the communicator for a second. He had been looking forward to trying a new method of meditation he had read about in a biography of Surak he had brought on board and he was certainly not comfortable with being Jim's nurse while he was ill. It was... undignified.

When he walked back into Jim's bedroom, however, he instantly saw that his presence would be necessary. Jim was curled up into a ball in the middle of the bed, shivering, hugging himself tightly for warmth.

"Captain, I am under orders to ensure you get into bed." Spock said awkwardly from the doorway.

When Jim said nothing, Spock moved forwards.

"Can I get you a pair of pyjamas?" Spock asked tentatively.

Still no reply. He moved across the room to the dresser tucked into the corner. He pulled open several drawers to find pyjamas when out of the blue he wondered if Jim preferred to wear underwear in his pyjamas or to go without. The mental image of Jim without underwear popped suddenly and without warning into his mind. The sudden indecency of the thought shocked him so much he slammed the drawer closed with an unnecessary amount of force.

"Spock!" Jim exclaimed. "My head! Please be quiet!"

Placing one hand on the side of the dresser to stabilize himself, Spock felt certain now that his thought processes had been affected by something. This was the second time today that he had not been fully in control of his thoughts. He had followed Jim completely unintentionally that evening and now he was having completely inappropriate thoughts about his commanding officer. He realized that it was probably unwise, in his compromised state, to be caring for someone with a communicable disease.

Spock pulled out a pair of Star Fleet issue pyjama bottoms and a long-sleeved black top and laid them out next to Jim quickly. He decided that he would see Jim into bed and then promptly leave for a bout of intensive meditation.

"Captain, I will ask you now to please remove your clothing and to put on your pyjamas." Spock said firmly, arms behind his back.

"What are you, my mother?" Jim snorted, rolling over slowly, teeth chattering. He hoisted himself up slowly onto his elbows and then into a sitting position. "Can't Bones come up?"

"I assure you that I asked him." Spock replied.

"Well, damn." Jim sighed, coughing into his arm.

"I will wait outside for you." Spock said, stepping outside of the room and faced away from Jim. Spock found himself growing increasingly unsettled. Usually his thought processes and his behaviours were as predictable to him as the mathematical equations he had made his career around and the shift today was unnerving. The break up with Nyota had been unsettling, yes, but it had not been traumatic enough to change his very being. Their break up had been nearly six months ago now and he was certain that she was seeing other people. It was different.

"Umm... Spock?" Jim called weakly from behind him.

"Yes, Captain?" Spock said, turning around with his eyes shut.

"Look, I hate this as much as you do, but I'm having a hard time getting my socks off." Jim admitted.

"I can assist you." Spock said, opening his eyes to find Jim half naked, struggling like a child to remove his socks with shaking hands. Spock immediately felt that he was in a place he wasn't supposed to be in; he did not trust himself.

Despite finding the situation highly inappropriate, Spock got down on his knees in front of Jim and helped pull his socks off.

"I do not hate this, Jim." Spock said in response to what Jim had said earlier. Once again, Spock was caught off-guard by what he was saying.

Jim didn't reply, but he seemed to relax slightly.

"There." Spock said, folding the socks and then tucking them gently into the laundry bin. "Could you please put your shirt on and get underneath the covers."

Unfortunately, the shirt was inside out and Jim handed it to Spock to disentangle. Taking a seat on the bed next to him, Spock swiftly righted the shirt and motioned for Jim to put his arms up. Spock felt his insides squirm as he helped pull the shirt on over Jim's head. He was careful not to touch Jim's skin; he had a particular aversion to unnecessary physical contact. Even without touching him, Spock could feel that Jim's skin was burning hot. Jim, however, was shivering uncontrollably.

"Thank you." Jim sighed, pulling the sleeves over his hands like mittens.

Nodding, Spock carefully peeled back the covers for Jim to get underneath. Jim half-crawled, half-fell down onto the mattress and Spock covered him up. He sat next to Jim, hands folded in his lap.

"Dr. McCoy told me I should read you a story." Spock said more to himself than to Jim.

"Did he?" Jim laughed, shivering uncontrollably under the covers.

"He did. I thought you were too old for the human custom of bedtime stories." Spock replied, concerned that Jim would not be comfortable enough to sleep as he watched Jim squirm.

"He might be right. But it couldn't hurt to try." Jim laughed weakly, his teeth chattering as he spoke.

Spock was quiet for a moment, watching Jim shiver. He could feel Jim's warmth through the covers but Jim was still cold. "We Vulcan do not have many legends or stories but I could share with you some of the teachings of Surak if that would bring you comfort."

"Absolutely not." Jim said, his teeth chattering so violently he could barely speak.

Spock glanced up at the clock on the wall. It had been nearly fifteen minutes since he had called Dr. McCoy and still nobody had come from Sick Bay. Spock started to consider his options if nobody came at all. He recalled his basic medical training and tried to remember what to do for a fever. First was a shot of acetaminophen, but that had already been administered. Second was to submerge the patient in a cool bath. Spock thought it a very poor idea to attempt that as it may put Jim's system into shock. Third was in a time of crisis in sub-zero temperatures was to share body heat.

For a moment, Spock felt completely conflicted. He could potentially bring Jim much more comfort by getting into bed with him. His body temperature ran at a significantly higher temperature than the body of a human and he could warm him significantly. On the other hand, every part of him screamed that it would be beyond inappropriate and against every protocol for a subordinate to share the bed of a superior. What if Dr. McCoy or one of the nurses came in and found them in bed together and misinterpreted the situation?

"Captain..." Spock said quietly.

"Yeah?" Jim replied.

"Would it provide you with sufficient heat or comfort if I were to share my body heat with you?" Spock asked.

"You want to get in bed with me, Spock?" Jim asked with a small, embarassed chuckle.

"It is not a matter of 'wanting', Captain. I believe it may help you to recover and to go to sleep." Spock ventured. "It is, however, grossly inappropriate without your explicit consent."

"Spock, you're the last person I would ever think of as inappropriate. I would seriously accept any kind of help if it puts me out of this god damn misery." Jim replied, raising an eyebrow.

Spock nodded slowly. On the one hand, he could help his captain greatly by sharing his body heat. On the other hand, he was breaking every protocol in the book. He figured that if Jim consented and that if it were to be of help, it was his duty to serve his captain. Spock began to pull his shirt off, but was interrupted by Jim.

"Whoa, what're you doing?" Jim asked, laughing nervously.

"The easiest way to transfer body heat is through skin-to-skin contact." Spock replied matter-of-factually, removing his shirt and folding it. He placed it on the ground and stood up to remove his pants.

"Aw, seriously?" Jim whined. "Keep your underwear on, though."

Folding his pants and placing them with his shirt and socks, Spock lifted up the covers and climbed inside, folding his body up close to Jim's length-wise in the bed. Spock wrapped one arm tightly around Jim's waist and felt a wave of comfort wash over him. He could feel the shaking in Jim's body start to subside as he began to warm up. Going against all his inhibitions about physical intimacy, Spock felt extremely comfortable. He could smell Jim's cologne on the back of his neck and the shampoo he used. Spock ran his hands along Jim's arms to warm them up and he could feel the muscle underneath. Without realizing it, Spock rested his face in the back of Jim's neck and inhaled the familiar scent of his cologne.

"Spock..." Jim whispered, his voice raspy.

"Yes?" Spock answered, still caught up in the scent.

"Thank you." Jim said softly, relaxing into Spock's body, accepting his touch.

"Of course, Jim." Spock murmured.

"You called me Jim. Finally." Jim laughed quietly.

Spock didn't say anything. He had no idea how to describe the way he felt in that moment, wrapped around Jim like a blanket, the heady smell of Jim's cologne blocking his senses. Spock drew his hands slowly down Jim's arms and onto his chest and stomach, allowing himself for a brief moment to fully indulge in the wave of comfort that was crashing over him. They were silent for maybe a quarter of an hour. Spock was certain Jim was asleep.

"Your heart is racing." Jim said quietly, snapping Spock out of his thoughts.

Spock cleared his throat and pulled his hands back.

"It's okay, Spock." Jim whispered, reaching for Spock's hands and pulling them back down around his waist. "I want you here."

Spock swallowed hard. For a moment he was the one who felt as if he had a fever. He was allowing his emotions to surface and it was entirely dangerous. He knew he had not been himself and he didn't trust himself not to act inappropriately.

"Jim, I believe you are delirious." Spock said seriously, attempting to bring his hands back up to a more decent position.

"Even if I am, I want you here. I want you." Jim murmured, his voice husky. Spock could feel Jim burning up in front of him. He had no idea what Jim was trying to say but there was something in the tone of Jim's voice that intrigued him. Was it... _desire_ in Jim's voice? Did Jim really_ want_ him?

"Jim." Spock said, attempting to harden the tone of his voice into something resembling sternness, but it came out more as a grunt as Jim backed up further into him.

"I want you, I've always wanted you." Jim persisted as if he hadn't heard Spock. "Ever since I made you angry... I wanted you then."

Spock swallowed hard. He knew exactly what Jim was referring to - the time Jim enraged him in order to take control of Enterprise after the destruction of Vulcan.

"I can feel you." Jim whispered again.

Spock bit his lip. He felt vulnerable. Human. Spock had never managed to fully suppress his human desires and one of the hardest emotions he had ever had to conquer was sexual desire. He had had to learn early that his human urges, especially the urge to mate much more often than once every seven years, were to be repressed. Pushed aside. But there was something about the smell of Jim's cologne, the warmth of his body in front of him and the deep, husky tone to Jim's voice that was awakening something inside of him he thought he had locked away since Nyota left.

This felt dangerous. Illicit. Irresistible.

"Jim, I-" Spock could barely keep himself under control.

"If you want me, Spock, now is the time." Jim whispered dreamily, pulling Spock's hands down along his body and down over his hips.

"Jim, please." Spock said, not certain whether he wanted Jim to please stop or to please keep going.

Spock knew Jim was delirious but he had a feeling that what Jim was telling him was true. Jim had wanted Spock for years and Spock had been too ignorant to see it.

"Spock, let me have you." Jim said huskily, arching his back and pushing Spock's hands lower and lower. "You want it. I can feel you."

Spock let out a small groan as Jim's ass pressed against his crotch. Spock grabbed Jim's hips and pulled him harder back against him. He knew he had to stop. Part of him was fighting for control but the other part was so wrapped up in delicious defiance that he could hardly stop himself.

"I want you here." Jim said again, grinding up against Spock.

Spock leaned his head forwards against Jim's shoulder and let out a low groan of pleasure.

"I want you here." Jim said, shivering slightly as he backed his ass up harder against Spock's hardening cock.

"I want you." Spock growled back, finally giving in.

The rational part screaming for control was shrinking. He needed to stop - Jim wasn't in his right mind. But it felt so good.

Just as Spock was running his hands up Jim's shirt, he heard a beep at the front door.

_Medical._ Spock thought, using all of his will power to snap out of his lust. He snatched at his clothes and pulled them on as quickly as possible. He rushed to the door, smoothing his hair down.

What had he just done?


	2. Chapter 2

"Well, he's delirious, alright." Dr. McCoy sighed, coming out of Jim's bedroom.

Spock cleared his throat and looked up. "He is in no danger?"

"Danger? No. Just a bit of a fever." Dr. McCoy laughed, scratching the back of his neck.

"Well, that certainly is good news." Spock replied, standing up from where he had been waiting just outside Jim's bedroom.

"You're always so concerned about him." Dr. McCoy said.

Spock raised an eyebrow. "He is my commanding officer."

"Sure. Well, Spock, I'm headed back down to Sick Bay. There's been a malfunction with the replicators and people are just coming in puking everywhere. I told Jim we should've just got a chef like before." McCoy said more to himself than to Spock. "But no! Progress for progress' sake, of course."

"I wish you luck." Spock said simply. After what had happened with Jim he wanted nothing more than to go back to his own quarters.

"Thanks." McCoy mumbled, moving over to the door and letting himself out, not taking his eyes off his clipboard.

Spock lingered for a moment or two trying to decide whether he should go back in and say goodbye to Jim. After the way he had just felt, Spock thought better of it and left. On the way out, try as he might, he simply could not shake the memory of Jim's words. _Had Jim really felt romantic feelings for me for nearly three years? Had Jim really meant what he said or was he just delirious? Why did I react in such a physical manner?_

_Do I feel the same way?_

Spock rushed into his quarters and shut the door behind him. No matter what he tried, he couldn't cycle those thoughts out of his head. They kept coming back – _Why would he say such a thing? Will he remember it tomorrow?_

Ripping his clothes off as quickly as he could, he moved into the bathroom and turned the shower on. Cold. He stepped in and stood under the cold stream for a few moments, trying to clear his mind. No matter what he did, the thoughts kept sneaking back in.

_I behaved inappropriately. Why would he not have expressed romantic interest in me before?_

Spock stayed in the shower as long as he could stand it, letting the cold water flow over his face and body until his skin stood up in goosebumps. Nothing worked. Shivering, he stepped out of the shower and wrapped a navy blue Starfleet towel around his waist.

_What did I do? Why did I respond like that to his advances?_

Spock shut his eyes and gripped the edge of the sink, trying to ignore his racing thoughts.

_Something is wrong... Something is wrong... Something is wrong with me..._

"Mr. Spock, respond."

_Something is wrong with me..._

"Mr. Spock, do you read?"

_Was Jim in control of his actions?_

"Mr. Spock, we're coming in."

_Jim..._

Spock felt rough hands on his shoulders pulling him away from the sink.

"Spock? Hey, Spock, snap out of it."

"There is something wrong..." Spock replied, trying to focus through the mental fog on whomever had him by the shoulders.

"Come on, Spock! Focus, you're panicking... Focus."

Spock tried to narrow in on the voice in front of him, the hands on his arms. Anything to snap him out of his own mind.

"Look at me, Spock. Breathe."

With great mental effort, Spock took in a deep breath.

When he looked up he was facing Hikaru.

"You with us, Spock?" Hikaru asked, slowly letting go of Spock's arms.

Spock nodded, leaning back against the sink. Pavel stood in the doorway, his hand resting on the phaser at his belt.

"You gave us quite the scare." Pavel said as Spock looked at him. When Pavel noticed his hand on his phaser, he gave a guilty chuckle. "Wulcans are three times stronger than humans."

"My apologies." Spock said, his breathing heavy.

Hikaru nodded.

"You're lucky we came by to ask you to dinner or else..." Hikaru trailed off, deep concern lining his face.

Spock felt extremely self conscious. He had not realized how emotional he had become. While he was thankful for Hikaru and Pavel's assistance, embarrassment was slowly creeping up inside him.

"Why don't you get cleaned up and come on down to the common area with us?" Hikaru asked gently, attempting to lighten the mood.

Finally coming into control of his emotions, Spock shook his head.

"Thank you very much for the invitation but I have had a very trying day." Spock said, thought he was, admittedly, flattered that Hikaru and Pavel were interested in his company.

"Of course." Hikaru nodded. He patted Spock gently on the arm and turned to leave.

"Mr. Spock? We won't say anything to anyone." Hikaru said."

"Thank you." Spock said, seeing the two of them to the door.

As soon as Pavel and Hikaru had left, Spock shut his eyes and leaned back against the door. At the very least, he was thankful to Pavel and Hikaru for breaking him from his cyclic thoughts. While he had his mind to himself, he got dressed and then prepared for his evening's meditation. His mind was reeling against the panic he had just subjected himself to.

Crossing his legs on the floor, Spock lit the candle before him on the floor and shut his eyes.

_He was spiralling out of control. Spinning, faster and faster, unable to keep hold of anything. He could sense other people around him, but couldn't see them. Panic. Fear. Concentrating, he reached out. He found a handhold. Cold metal. A guardrail. Spock looked around. He wasn't spinning, his surroundings were. He listened. The harsh clang of an alarm bell. The creaking warp of steel bending. People yelling. Screaming. Spock moved forwards, allowing his feet to move him. This was Enterprise. Things were becoming more clear. He found himself swept along, careening down the hallway as the ship tilted dangerously on its side. Doors opened ahead of him, but he could feel dread rising up inside him. He pushed his way into the room. Dread. Horror. A glass barrier. His hands felt cold as he touched it. Someone was inside. He could feel the tears fall. He could feel his emotions swelling to the surface, crashing over him over and over until he could barely stand it. _

_Jim._

"_Jim!"_

Spock opened his eyes. He was back in his quarters, the candle flame flickering before him. He was puzzled by the fact that his meditation had brought him back to the day Jim died. He had meditated nearly every night for two years since it had happened yet he thought that he had dealt with the trauma of his friend's death long ago. He certainly felt more in control of his thoughts and that was certainly comforting. It had been quite a while since he had gone through such a powerful bout of anxiety.

With his thoughts more or less intact, Spock got up and moved over to his bed. He definitely had something to contemplate now that he had meditated. That he would have a flashback to the night Jim died was especially meaningful because of the lust-fueled happenings in Jim's bed earlier. Spock knew he should have listened to himself earlier this evening when he felt the situation was inappropriate. He couldn't help but hold himself accountable for giving into his human side, even briefly. His meditation had only served to remind him of how heartbroken he had been when Jim died. Jim was his friend, the only person who had come close to understanding who he was, and when he died he took a part of Spock with him that he only recovered when Dr. McCoy brought him back to life. What had transpired that night may forever alter their relationship, assuming Jim remembered what happened.

* * *

_Spock..._

_Spock, I'm here..._

Spock sat up straight in bed. He could have sworn someone had called his name. A quick glance around the room combined with the time on the clock told him it would be entirely illogical for someone to have come in. It was 0430 hours and it would not be long before his shift began. Swinging his legs out of the bed, he bristled slightly at the uncomfortable feeling of his bare feet against the cold floor. He stayed there, silent and still, listening for any sign of the voice from before.

_Nothing_, Spock thought, _it must have been a dream._

Spock, however, could not deny that he was unsettled by the voice. He was unaccustomed to waking in the middle of the night; his sleep cycle was usually much more reliable. It was known that Vulcans did not dream. Whether that was true or not Spock would never know. He dreamt. Or, at least, he used to. As a child, he had woken often during the night by night terrors until his father had had the Vulcan clerics rid him of the inconvenience of dreaming. It was a human trait. He had heard of dreaming carrying humans away into somnambulism – Dr. McCoy, it was rumoured, had found his way out of his quarters and was well on his way to the bridge before he was returned, unawakened, to his bed. Spock did not envy him that. He also suspected Jim suffered from nightmares due to post traumatic stress but it was only that – a suspicion.

It took Spock several minutes to feel comfortable enough with getting back into bed to lie down again. At restless times like these, he found he had ample time to revisit moments during his days that had been especially taxing and today had been one of the most taxing in recent memory. He found his mind drifting back to Jim's bed. Careful not to descend into panic as he had before, he went over everything again... Jim had been silent for fifteen minutes and then, out of the silence, came that earnest declaration of desire. Human behaviour was often difficult to decipher but Spock could tell that Jim had been honest with him even if he hadn't meant to be. Jim was excellent at hiding things – he always had been.

Just as he was drifting off, his mind still very much on Jim, a call came through on his communicator. Disturbed once again, Spock reached for it groggily.

"Spock? This is McCoy."

"This is Spock."

"Spock, sorry to wake you so early, but..."

Spock sat straight up. Something was wrong.

"What is it, Doctor?" Spock asked, already on his feet and reaching for his house coat.

"I can't bring his fever down. I had to bring him to Sick Bay-"

Spock barely heard McCoy's next few words. Rushing down the corridor, he passed several surprised looking members of the night crew before making it to Sick Bay.

"Doctor?" Spock asked, moving quickly.

"Spock, I thought you might want to be here." McCoy's voice was strained with exhaustion and desperation. "His fever is totally unresponsive. If he makes it to morning I think he'll make it, but..."

He didn't need to finish his sentence. Spock understood.

McCoy had already pulled a chair up next to Jim's bed and Spock sunk into it slowly. Had modern medicine not progressed far enough that a simple fever could still kill a healthy man?

"Jim?" Spock asked tentatively.

Spock realized now why his meditation had brought him back to the night Jim had died. If Spock didn't believe in premonition before, it certainly seemed plausible now. Spock took Jim's hand gently in his. Jim was pale, sweaty and his skin was cold as ice. Spock listened to the sound of Jim's breath coming ragged and slowly.

Spock felt like his heart was being torn out. How could a man who had defied death so many times in the most daring of ways be laid so low by a common fever? It seems impossible in its irony. Spock clutched at Jim's hand and he could feel a slow pulse against his fingers.

The hours dragged on and Spock hung on every single beep from the heart monitor as if it might be the last. It was early in the morning now – 0600 hours. Enterprise was bustling with people now and people were starting to file in to Sick Bay as they did every morning. Spock had drawn the curtains around them for privacy. Dr. McCoy came in every ten or fifteen minutes to adjust monitors, apply a hypospray or to add measurements to the clipboard at the end of Jim's bed. He hung onto every single one of Jim's sounds, hoping he would come to at any moment.

_Beep._

_Beep._

_Beeeeeeeeeeeeeep._

Spock leapt out of his chair and Dr. McCoy rushed in, armed to the teeth with medical instruments. Overcome with panic, Spock wrung Jim's hands. Jim was deathly pale and a pale patina of sweat coated his brow. As Dr. McCoy jabbed and poked at Jim's motionless body, Spock could feel the tears flowing down his face.

"Don't do this to me again..." Spock said, slapping the back of Jim's hand.

"Spock, get out of the way, dammit!" McCoy yelled, trying to push Spock away.

"No!" Spock exclaimed, standing his ground.

"T'hy'la..." Spock said, feeling a lump rise in his throat. "Please..."

"Spock, dammit, I will call security! You are in my way!" Bones yelled as loud as he could.

"T'hy'la..." Spock whispered, holding onto Jim's hand like it was the only thing that mattered in the whole world. "I love you."

If Dr. McCoy heard, he didn't say anything. With one arm pushing Spock away, he unpacked a defibrillator and got to work on Jim's chest.

"I love you, Jim. Please, come back to me." Spock whispered, allowing every single one of the emotions he had been repressing since last night flow out of him. If he lost Jim now, what would the point of the rest of his life be?


	3. Chapter 3

_Author's Note: Thank you so much for all your support! I've really enjoyed reading the reviews; some of your theories are fascinating!_

* * *

"20 ccs of inaprovaline."

Spock watched helplessly as Jim was bombarded by defribillators, hyposprays, breathing tubes and anything else the nurses thought would help.

"Clear."

Jim's body bounced a couple centimetres off the bed, but there was still no change in his condition.

"Spock, I need you to move!" Dr. McCoy yelled again. "Somebody call security, dammit!"

Before Spock knew what he was doing, his hand had found its way to Jim's face. Three fingers poised in just the right place, Spock initiated the meld almost completely out of instinct. He wasn't sure what he was expecting – Jim was medically dead. Within seconds, Spock's mind was joined with Jim's. Breathing heavily, Spock struggled to find anything to cling onto. It was dark here, but not lifeless. Spock called for Jim and to his surprise, someone answered. It was far off and distant, but something was definitely answering his call. Navigating the uncharted territory of Jim's nearly dead mind was frightening; He was overcome by emotions. He could feel Jim's delirium and his fear.

This was too much like the night Pike had died.

The thought caused him to hesitate, and the bond was almost broken, but Spock caught himself just in time and brought himself back. Was it possible to coax Jim out? He had never heard of a meld bringing someone back from the dead. Spock called out again with a strange non-verbal form of communication he had had no idea that he was capable of. Once again, Jim answered. The voice was closer. Their game of call and response went on for what could have been seconds or days, Spock couldn't tell. Jim was so close, so close now. Just one more second, just one mo –

The mind meld was abruptly torn apart as rough hands grabbed Spock by the arms and by the waist and dragged him away from Jim.

"Get him out of here!" McCoy yelled over the sound of the electric hum of the defribillator.

"No!" Spock yelled in despair. "I was so close! Let me back, let me –"

_Beep._

_Beep._

_Beep._

Everyone in the room stopped what they were doing.

"He's stable, Doctor!" a nurse cried out, rushing to Jim's side.

"It's a bloody miracle." McCoy mumbled, dragging a gloved hand over his face.

As soon as Spock heard the beeping, he began struggling against his restraints. There were, however, four full-grown security staff hanging onto him so hard that even his vulcan strength was no match.

When the guards realized what happened, that Jim was alive, they let Spock go out of surprise.

There was a moment of pure, absolute shock while everyone in Sick Bay tried to sort out what had just happened. But, as always, Dr. McCoy was the first to break the silence.

"Are you out of your damned mind?" Dr. McCoy yelled, pulling off his gloves angrily and throwing them at the poor nurse next to him.

Walking forwards, furious, McCoy ripped off his face mask and stood staring at Spock as if he were about to murder him in cold blood.

"I don't care how "in love" you are, this is a medical bay and you very nearly impeded me saving my patient. I should have you thrown in the brig and have you shipped back to Vulcan!" McCoy yelled at the top of his lungs.

The rest of the medical staff had either wisely run off to find other work or were taking over caring for Jim.

"I saved his life." Spock said, trying to keep his voice steady. "I will also remind you that I am your commanding officer."

"You and your Jedi mind tricks are getting you nowhere in here, friend." Dr. McCoy laughed angrily. "And this, in case your regulation-loving vulcan ass has forgotten, is Sick Bay where I am the Chief Medical Officer! What I say here is law."

"You are perfectly correct." Spock said, figuring it was best at this juncture not to enquire as to the particular meaning of 'Jedi mind trick'.

"Then get out of my sight." Dr. McCoy hissed, taking off his apron and throwing it on the ground at Spock's feet.

Spock knew he deserved every inch of the berating he had received from Dr. McCoy but that didn't stopped him from feeling deep, unrelenting embarrassment. He had shamed himself by being so open with his emotions in front of nearly everyone in Sick Bay. Not only had he impeded a doctor's work, he had interfered to such a degree that he could have killed Jim. He had behaved entirely against everything he had been trained for and he had made a fool of himself. He knew he had done irreparable damage to his career and to his working relationship with Dr. McCoy.

_Did I save Jim's life, though?_ Spock wondered. He was moving down the hallway quickly. He knew he had to report to Starfleet right away and the best place to do that was from the captain's quarters.

_I am acting captain now,_ he supposed, _even though my behaviour has been anything but what is expected of a starship captain._

Spock could feel his emotions churning inside him like a leviathan, threatening to burst out at any moment to eat him alive. Now was not the time to consider his feelings for Jim even though everything inside him was screaming to be back with him. Jim was alive and that was all that mattered at this juncture; Right now he needed to be the strong captain that the crew of the Enterprise deserved.

Moving into Jim's quarters, Spock was hit unexpectedly by the smell of Jim's cologne. It brought back every emotion that had been threatening to break him apart since last night in Jim's bed. For a moment, Spock stood still, awash in Jim's scent, but he soon found himself sinking down to his knees, and then onto the ground. He willed himself to cry. He tried to scream. Spock wanted to hit everything in sight, smash the paintings Jim had hung up, destroy everything in the room that made him think of Jim. But instead he sat in silence, staring forwards into darkness.

Spock stayed there in pained silence, trapped by fickle emotions that refused to show themselves at the only time he had asked them to. Spock felt deeply frustrated. He was a vulcan. He had chosen to be vulcan. He had elected to live this vulcan life and it seemed like living on this ship had done nothing but reveal just how human he really was. He was torn forever between two worlds, neither of which he would ever fully fit into.

Spock only got to his feet when he heard a signal from the communicator by the door. Standing up, Spock took a deep inhale, closed his eyes, exhaled and felt something more of himself again.

"This is Spock." Spock said into the communicator.

"Spock, this is McCoy." McCoy's voice was overly formal.

"Go ahead."

"Jim's conscious." McCoy said stiffly.

"That is good news." Spock replied, echoing McCoy's strained formality.

"I've talked to Starfleet and informed him of the change so don't bother."

"Very well." Spock replied.

There was a brief moment of silence before McCoy spoke again.

"I don't know what you did but whatever it was, I've never seen someone bounce back so quickly from cardiac arrest and fatal fever in all my damned career."

Spock stayed silent. He wasn't even entirely sure what he had done.

"Look, I don't want what I said to you to come between us. I know things can be kind of strained between us, Spock, but I said what I said out of anger."

"Dr. McCoy, while I respect your apology and thank you, your castigation of me was entirely founded in logic. I behaved entirely inappropriately." Spock said, admittedly shocked by McCoy's friendliness.

"Well, that's the thing. I don't think you did."

"Doctor?" Spock asked, confused.

"I was a fool to let you stay when he went into arrest and you should have left when I told you the first time, but your behaviour wasn't out of the ordinary. You love him."

Spock could find no other way around it. "Yes."

"Spock, if it were me and that had been my daughter, you better believe I would have been fighting to get a chance to be with her. I wouldn't have left her side if ten klingons had been trying to tear me away."

"Sir, it does not excuse my actions."

"No, it doesn't." McCoy sighed, evidently giving up. "I just want to let you know that I want to put that little scene behind us."

"It is forgotten, Doctor. I am in your debt." Spock replied.

"And if you've got yourself together again you might want to come and sit with your boyfriend and try to make him talk some sense." McCoy chuckled.

"Doctor, Captain Kirk and I are not engaged in a romantic relationship." Spock said quickly.

"You don't have to be. McCoy out."

The line went dead and Spock stood there for a moment, slightly confused by the exchange. At least one thing had gone right today and his and Dr. McCoy's relationship was not as damaged as he had previously thought. He wanted to go back to see Jim like Dr. McCoy suggested but he didn't trust himself. After his several emotional breakdowns within the past 24 hours, he was feeling completely drained. He had not been in a state like he had been since he had fought Khan or since the romulan destruction of Vulcan. It was certainly weighing on him. Jim was awake, not rational maybe, but awake. What Spock needed was sleep, a good meal and then he would be prepared to see Jim.

Spock moved quietly into Jim's bedroom. It was just as Spock had left it yesterday. Messy and dark, sheets and clothes strewn across the bed. Spock stripped down slowly to his underwear and climbed into the bed. Under normal circumstances, Spock could never rest in a room so disorganized. Today, however, Spock found himself lulled by the gentle caress of warm blankets, soft pillows and the intoxicating smell of cologne.

* * *

Spock awoke some time later feeling refreshed. He lingered for a moment in Jim's bed, but got up once he caught sight of the clock. It was 0830 hours and his shift began in only 30 minutes. With everything happening around him, he had very nearly forgotten his duty to the Enterprise. He was dressed and out the door in fifteen minutes and on the bridge five minutes after that.

"Mr. Spock?" Hikaru asked, slightly confused from the captain's chair.

"Mr. Sulu, is there a problem?" Spock asked, walking onto the bridge.

"Well, I got word from Dr. McCoy that I should take over your duties today, Sir." Hikaru said, standing up quickly and motioning for Spock to take the seat.

"Dr. McCoy was mistaken, Sulu. I am perfectly capable of working." Spock said, sinking into the captain's chair, feeling very much himself. He pulled out a file from the side of the chair and opened it.

"Mr. Sulu, please lay in a course for Andreus VI. Warp three." Spock ordered, settling back into the chair and watching as the stars faded into luminescent, white blurs as the Enterprise sped past them.

* * *

The hours went by quickly and Spock found his shift had flown by. Work was soothing to him; there was nothing that calmed him more like the day-to-day processes of the Enterprise. By the time 1700 hours came around, Spock was feeling more himself than he had felt in the last day or so. He knew that he had to make a trip down to Sick Bay and he knew it needed to be now while he was feeling better.

Spock walked quickly down to Sick Bay, and started to feel apprehensive. Once again, Spock was second-guessing himself. He knew that he had said he loved Jim, but he had also called him T'h'yla which could mean brotherly love. It was just the word that came to him in the moment, nothing more. He had not been in control of his emotions at the time, Spock rationalized, and he couldn't help what he had said in the moment. He could have meant anything by what he had said.

As for what had happened in Jim's bedroom the other night, Spock figured that the fever would have caused Jim to forget everything that had happened. Spock now had the rare opportunity to set everything back to the way things had been. He had the option now to go back on everything he had said, done and felt over the last day. He knew it was the right thing – the logical thing – to do in order to reinstate the working status quo on board the Enterprise.

As Spock walked in and saw Jim propped up, smiling like an imbecile, Spock knew he couldn't talk himself out of this one. He was in love with Jim Kirk and there was nothing he could do about it.


	4. Chapter 4

_Author's Note: Thank you so much for your support and I apologize for the amount of time it took to get this chapter ready. _

_On a side note, I have based most of Sulu's demeanour off of George Takei's as his character isn't really explored in the AOS movies very much. I've met George Takei and even gone to some of his panels and conventions and seen many interviews (he's a personal hero!) so I kind of have a better feel for George Takei's personality and his Sulu than for John Cho's. _

_Happy reading!_

* * *

"Jim, you appear to be in good spirits." Spock said casually, sitting down in the chair to the right of Jim's bed.

Sick Bay was full to bursting with patients but Jim had luckily secured his own room in the back. There were certain luxuries that came with being a star ship captain. There was a large window behind Jim's bed that opened onto the great expanse of space and to the streamlined stars speeding past as the Enterprise travelled faster than light. Other than the rhythmic beeping of the heart rate monitor, the room was quiet and cool. Sterile.

"Yeah, I'm not feeling so hot, though." Jim chuckled, scratching the back of his neck.

"I certainly hope not." Spock replied, knitting his fingers together in his lap.

Jim laughed and fell silent.

"You saved my life." Jim said quietly, eyes on his lap. He toyed with the fraying end of the blanket draped across his legs and purposefully avoided eye contact with Spock.

"I do not think I did." Spock replied. He had no idea how much or how little Dr. McCoy had told Jim about the goings-on of the last 24 hours. Jim could know everything or he could know nothing. As such, Spock endeavoured to leave most of the questioning to Jim.

"I know you did, actually." Jim said, finally looking up at Spock. "I could feel you. Inside my mind."

"Ah." Spock said coolly. "Yes."

"I can barely remember but I know you were with me when I – when I died." Jim said, obviously struggling for the right words.

"I was. I thought that a mind meld may convince your psyche to persevere. To hold out a little longer, as you would say." Spock said. "I could not bear to watch you die again while I stood by."

"Well, it worked. I can't really describe it, but..." Jim slid his hand tentatively across the bed covers. Without thinking, Spock reached out and took Jim's hand in his.

Spock's heart was racing at the touch. Jim's hand seemed small inside his. He was surprised by how powerful his instinct was to not let him go. He had lost Jim twice. How could he possibly fathom losing him again? Slowly, almost as if testing Spock's reaction, Jim twisted his hand and interlaced their fingers. For a moment, their eyes met. In that instant, all of Spock's worries faded. Suddenly it didn't seem important any more whether Jim had meant what he said yesterday in bed or if he had even remembered it. All that mattered was right here. He watched Jim's face soften as he looked from their tightly locked fingers up to Spock's face.

Before Spock knew what he was doing, he had got up out of his chair, touched his free hand gently to the side of Jim's face and –

"Alright, Jim, I've got about twenty different shots to give you and then I've got to get you down for a quick little scan." Dr. McCoy opened the door, his eyes on his clipboard.

In the split second it had taken for McCoy to come into the room, Spock had sat back down as if nothing happened.

Jim coughed into his arm and Spock became highly interested by a small crack in the chair's armrest.

McCoy looked up from his clipboard, eyes narrowed. Whether the doctor had noticed what had just happened was unclear and Spock was starting to wonder if Dr. McCoy's interruptions would become a regular habit.

"No problem, Bones." Jim said, sitting up in bed, distracted by what had just transpired.

If it was even possible, McCoy's eyes narrowed even more. "Alright, I'm going to have to schedule you for a psychiatric evaluation, too."

"Bones." Jim sighed. "Fine! Shoot me up but be fast about it."

Spock watched the exchange carefully, but it was totally impossible for him to tell what Dr. McCoy's motives were. The last conversation he and the doctor had had involved Jim being referred to as his "boyfriend" and Spock had been puzzling over that statement ever since. It must be obvious that some romantic exchange was taking place between he and the captain otherwise someone like Dr. McCoy would never have made such a remark. However, it also seemed to be a rather anachronistic human custom to ridicule a close relationship between two men. As hard as it was for him to get along with Dr. McCoy, Spock had to admit that he was the one on board the Enterprise that got him thinking the most about human behaviour.

Dr. McCoy and Jim spoke back and forth for several minutes, laughing and talking, but Spock barely heard any of it. He could barely believe that he had nearly kissed Jim. It was so... human. Such a human gesture. Over the past couple days, Spock had felt his human side so acutely he had been all-consumed by it. A human obsession, Spock couldn't ignore this part of himself any more.

"Spock? I asked what you thought?" Dr. McCoy asked. "Hello! Is there anything between those two pointy ears or are we just left with a Vulcan shell?"

"Not that there's much difference than normal." McCoy added, chuckling to himself.

"My apologies, Doctor. I was consumed by thought." Spock replied, slightly startled that he had allowed himself to be so overwhelmed by his own mind.

"Clearly. But, I'm pretty sure Jim here picked up some kind of single-celled organism that attacked the insular cortex of his brain. I just don't know where we would have picked up the damn thing seeing as we only left Earth two weeks ago." Dr. McCoy sighed, crossing his arms.

"What do you think?" Jim asked, his voice unusually tender, his head tilted to the side as he waited for Spock's answer.

Spock looked up at Jim and felt a surge of emotion well up inside him. He took a deep breath and let it out before replying.

"Doctor, I would not know and I find it highly illogical that you would ask a medical question of me when you are our Chief Medical Officer." Spock said, steepling his fingers.

"Typical." McCoy sighed, leaning against the bedframe. "Anyways, Jim, you're in the clear, the organism seems to have died from the extreme fever. But the question remains – why were you affected when the rest of the crew wasn't and where did it come from?"

Jim shrugged and looked back at Spock. The two men locked eyes while McCoy frowned and flipped the pages on his clipboard.

"It might be sexually transmitted." McCoy said, breaking out of his reverie. "Slept with any aliens before we left Earth, Jim?"

Spock's eyebrows shut up so high they very nearly disappeared and Jim let out a cry of protest.

"You know what, that's exactly it!" McCoy said, clearly pleased with his hypothesis, "I'm going to need you to fill out a form of all your sexual partners to date."

"Better get me about a hundred sheets, Bones." Jim said, growing extremely red and crossing his arms.

"Don't exaggerate, Jim, it'd going to be two sheets tops." McCoy said, patting Jim on the shoulder with a huge grin.

Jim narrowed his eyes. "Are you pulling my leg?"

"Yes. Definitely." McCoy laughed. "I've never heard of a single-celled organism being transmitted sexually."

"Alright, now you're the one going in for psychiatric evaluation." Jim said, brow furrowed as he collapsed backwards onto his pillows.

McCoy laughed to himself for a while and then put down the clipboard while Spock sat by, perplexed by the doctor's odd sense of humour.

"Well, I wasn't lying about the single-celled organism, though." McCoy said, wiping a tear from his eye as he got a hold of himself. "We've still got to figure out where it came from and then we've got to have the whole damn crew file in here for a neuroscan."

"Fine, fine. Schedule it. Now get out of here, will you?" Jim asked, rubbing his temples.

McCoy smiled and raised his eyebrows. "You get out of here, too, Spock. This guy really needs his rest. That's an order."

Spock stood up. "It is logical that I follow the doctor's orders."

"I suppose it is." Jim replied, looking Spock pointedly in the eye.

McCoy left the room followed by Spock who never broke eye contact with Jim until he had closed the door behind him.

Spock had never felt such an emotional charge from a person before. The spark of life that came off Jim was so alive, so intoxicating, he found himself wanting more of it – more of him. As Spock walked across the Enterprise to the turbolift and then to the common area he found himself once again all-consumed by the drive to be with Jim. The need was so powerful in its illogic that even Spock's own mental reasoning couldn't break him out of it.

_We will be on board for five years. There is no need to rush into something that may be only a fleeting human infatuation._

_Jim is the captain and is my commanding officer. The power dynamic on the bridge would be permanently altered. _

_How would we respect one another's customs? _

No matter how hard Spock tried to talk himself out of his feeling for Jim his attempts fell futile. Spock found his way to his regular table in the common area completely consumed by thought. The circular thoughts that had haunted him yesterday to the point of near psychosis were once again beginning to dominate his mind. He knew now that Jim must be interested in him from the power of his glances, not to mention the way their hands had linked. The nuance of that gesture alone, touching hands and fingers, meant two completely different things in human and vulcan culture. To hold hands was one of the most basic and least intimate demonstrations of affection for humans whereas in vulcan culture it was tantamount to a human kiss. The memory of feeling Jim's fingers against his own sent chills up and down his spine. Whether Jim knew the implication of this gesture in his own culture or not was beside the point. It had happened. There was mutual attraction.

The question now of the feverish night in Jim's bed become once again all-important. He needed to ask Jim if he remembered. The very memory of the night set Spock's skin on fire and he found he had to tear himself away from the thought to avoid sexual arousal. This had been a tasking couple days and Spock felt the strain of sexual tension on him stronger than even in the first days of his relationship with Nyota. This was different. The relationship dynamic had been completely reversed for Spock. Nyota had been his subordinate and he had held the reigns of their professional relationship. With Jim, he was the subordinate and it was entirely disconcerting. If Jim really had initiated this the other night in bed, it was important that Spock know.

"Mr. Spock, mind if I join you?"

Spock looked up to see Hikaru standing next to his table. Spock considered rejecting Hikaru's offer and heading back to his quarters, but he caught himself. If he were to ever survive this five year mission he needed to make friends.

"Yes, please, Lieutenant Sulu." Spock said, motioning to the chair across from him.

"Fancy a game of chess?" Sulu offered. "I have found the last few days very stressful with the captain so ill."

Spock hadn't even thought about how the crew might be affected by Jim's illness. They had all become so fond of him and to face the thought of losing him so abruptly would have been quite disturbing.

"Yes, that would be acceptable." Spock replied.

Hikaru stood up and grabbed a chessboard from the cabinets nearby and returned.

"I imagine that it has been quite stressful for you to see your friend so ill." Hikaru said, setting up the pieces.

Spock watched as Hikaru set up the board and considered Hikaru's statement. This human version of chess was very similar to vulcan chess and he had become quite fond of the game.

"It has been a trying time." Spock admitted. "Fortunately Captain Kirk has made nearly a full recovery."

"That is fantastic news." Hikaru said, sitting down across from Spock. "White moves first."

Spock contemplated the board and picked up a pawn. Propelling it two squares forward toward to E4.

"I have found the crew's behaviour exemplary in this time of disturbance." Spock said.

"Thank you, sir. I have tried my best." Hikaru replied, sliding his pawn ahead to E5.

The next few moves proceeded in relative silence with the odd remark about the play until Hikaru looked up.

"Mr. Spock, permission to speak freely?" Hikaru asked, always formal.

"Of course." Spock said, eyebrows raised. He had always admired Hikaru's respect for regulation.

"I've found you distracted lately and, if I may say, I was surprised to find you in such a state yesterday. Don't get me wrong, Mr. Spock, but I feel like something is bothering you and I would like to help. I know I may not be vulcan or the ship's counsellor but I believe that I am a good listener." Hikaru offered, trying to be as gentle as possible.

At first, Spock was quite taken aback by Hikaru's offer. It was quite kind that he was so concerned but it was also a stark reminder that he had embarrassed himself yesterday in front of two of his subordinate officers. Spock had always found Hikaru's calm and regulated manner refreshing amongst a crew of humans and he had thought of Hikaru almost as a kindred spirit. On the off time that Hikaru expressed any kind of emotion, even one as subtle as compassion, it was a jarring reminder that he was the only vulcan on board. While he had the chance, however, he thought that Hikaru would be a likely friend.

"I have been quite disturbed by Jim's illness. Jim has always been a very... perplexing figure in my life." Spock said honestly.

"I know what you mean." Sulu said, sliding his knight forward into play.

"Do you?" Spock asked, curious.

"As you might know, Alexander was my commanding officer while I was taking my command training. He's kind of a temperamental guy and I found that following his orders was often times very hard." Hikaru said.

Spock nodded, sliding his bishop around to take Hikaru's knight.

"I struggled for weeks to do what he told until I finally got so frustrated with him that I forced him to explain what I was doing wrong. His tough teaching method had caused me to study until my fingers bled, running simulations until I could barely think any more. So I finally cornered him one time after I failed my last simulation and he asked me to dinner." Hikaru grinned.

Spock was taken aback by the end of the story.

"I am not following. So Lieutenant Wellesley was pushing you so hard because he was romantically interested in you?" Spock asked, completely baffled by human customs.

"Yes. Basically, he pushed me so hard because he believed in me. And when I finally asked him about it, he confessed." Hikaru said.

"You have left yourself wide open." Spock commented.

"I suppose I have, but it was worth it." Hikaru said.

"Ah, excuse me, no, I meant on the board." Spock said.

Hikaru chuckled. "Ah, yes, I see."

Spock slid his bishop further towards Hikaru's now widely exposed king. This chess game was progressing much more quickly than he had expected it to.

"But Spock, you see what I mean, that if I hadn't made my move I would never have known why he behaved like that." Hikaru said, seemingly unperturbed by the fact that Spock had nearly won the game in under ten moves.

Even Spock caught the underlying hint in what Hikaru was saying. He felt very grateful, though, for Hikaru's careful discretion.

"I do understand." Spock said, nodding. "Check."

They spent a few more minutes in silence, Spock chasing Hikaru's king around the board until Hikaru finally surrendered.

"A good game, Mr. Spock." Hikaru said, standing up from the table. "Under normal circumstances I would shake your hand."

Spock raised an eyebrow. "Lieutenant Sulu, your chess game is significantly weaker than the last time we played."

"Is it?" Hikaru asked casually. He said a quick goodbye and headed out of the common area.

Spock disassembled the chess set and felt oddly content. He had a friend.


	5. Chapter 5

Spock sat in his quarters, feeling lucid and calm after his night's meditation. The candle flickering before him cast an odd, dim light around his quarters. It reminded him of home.

Every night since before he could remember he had meditated before sleep. The silent contemplation of a single flame at night was more comforting to him than anything else in this universe. It was the last, closest thing he had to Vulcan. All that was left of his family's way of life and traditional customs. Getting to his feet, he chanced a glance out of the window. They were speeding faster than the speed of light past trillions of stars and, even after all that they had been through, those stars still reminded him of how far he was from his home. While it was illogical to assume that all was lost now that a new colony had been founded, those nights on Vulcan were gone forever. The Enterprise was now his only home and her crew a sort of surrogate family.

That evening he had contemplated the concept of friendship and its meaning to humanity. He had noticed very early on that humans are in a constant search for a partner, whether that be in love, in sexual congress or in friendship. He had never understood the drive as it was more efficient to have working relationships and family relationships and to keep the two separate, but it was abundantly obvious that humans were driven to mix the two. Spock himself had quite possibly acquired two friends on board – Jim and Hikaru – and he was quite content with what he had.

Spock undressed slowly and neatly, folding his clothes before putting them into the laundry basket. He could feel his eyes growing heavy with exhaustion. After the turmoil of the last two days he was looking forward to a good night's sleep. Lowering himself into his bunk, he felt his head hit the pillow and was asleep in seconds.

* * *

_Spock..._

_I want you here..._

Spock's eyes flashed open. It was almost as if the voice had been right next to him or inside his head. He was not one to dream and he found this just as disturbing as he had found it the previous night. It was 0500 hours. Nearly the same time he had been awoken last night. He knew it was echoing Jim's words from the other night. He didn't have much experience with dreams. For all intents and purposes, he should not dream. These night time disturbances were yet another disturbing reminder of his humanity.

Spock knew he needed more sleep. He wasn't due on duty until 0700 hours and he could therefore sleep for at least another hour and be better rested. He attempted to push away the memory of the voice as he pulled the sheets back up and shut his eyes. Slipping back into the realm between consciousness and sleep, he began to envision the goings on of the previous night.

_He felt the delicious warmth of being up against Jim's body. The heady, intoxicating scent of Jim's cologne drifting off his feverish body like some kind of miasma of the flesh. He thought Jim was asleep – his chest rising and falling quickly to the time of his heart. Jim's neck was flushed red and he was close enough to see the small dimples in his skin. He heard Jim say something and could feel that unwelcomed yet completely satisfying wave of desire wash over him. Every nerve in Spock'sbody was alive, waiting for that delicious touch of skin on skin. Jim's hips rocked back and he was painfully aware of how hard he had become. He could feel lust almost as if it were palpable – something he could grab hold of and never let go. He let out a deep moan as Jim rocked back harder and harder. Spock's hands drifted up over Jim's thighs and he could feel the heat rising off Jim's body in waves. Jim said something again and Spock dragged his hand up over Jim's crotch and let out a small cry of desire as Spock grazed the hardness in Jim's pants. Spock lingered there, feeling the other man strain against his hand. Spock was losing control as Jim rocked perfectly back and forth along the length of his cock. Spock slid his hands inside the waistband of Jim's pyjama pants and dragged them down. Jim grabbed Spock's hand and directed it up and over his body back to Jim's equally swollen dick. Spock gripped it and – _

Spock's eyes shot open as he heard the alarm go off from across the room. The sheets were sticking to him uncomfortably and in a moment of realization, understood that he had come in his sleep. Spock's dick was uncomfortably hard as he stood up, peeling the sheet off of him and tossing it into the laundry basket. This had never, ever happened to him before and he felt an odd combination of satisfaction and disgust that his body could do something so against his will. Walking to the bathroom, Spock began the same routine he did every morning, though something felt slightly off.

"Hey! What are you doing here?!"

"Captain on the bridge!"

"We didn't think we'd see you for at least a week!"

Spock's eyes shot up from where he was recording data at the communication station on the bridge and watched as Jim Kirk strode on board as if nothing had happened. Eyebrows shooting high up on his forehead he caught Jim's eye for a moment before looking away. After his dream, he felt extremely uncomfortable looking at his captain in any way at all. He went back to his work, ignoring the commotion around him.

"What? Aren't you happy to see me, Spock?"

Spock felt two hands land on his shoulders and squeeze gently.

"Captain, I must insist that you return to Sick Bay at once. You are not fit to serve." Spock said, shutting his eyes at the delightful feeling of Jim touching him.

"Oh, Spock, don't be like that." Jim said, chuckling. He leaned forward over Spock's shoulder, their ears nearly pressed together.

Spock's jaw clenched. He could feel the heat coming off Jim's body.

"What are you doing?" Jim asked, his voice low.

"I am compounding data we obtained from the -"

"Ah, it's okay, I trust you." Jim said, squeezing Spock's shoulders again.

"Thank you, Captain." Spock replied.

"Oh, I like the sound of that." Jim said quietly before stepping away and moving back to the captain's chair.

Spock took a few deep breaths to steady himself and realized that just from Jim's last comment he was half hard. Swinging one leg over the other, Spock immediately tried to bury himself in his work. He attempted to ignore the memory of his dream from last night combined with the hauntingly arousing tone of Jim's voice as he leaned over his shoulder but he found he couldn't.

"Mr. Sulu, lay in a course for the Great Barrier. Star Fleet wants us to take a survey." Jim said

"Aye, Captain." Hikaru responded.

Spock looked over his shoulder and caught Jim's eye. Instead of looking away, however, Jim raised an eyebrow and held Spock's glance. Spock found himself unable to look away and when Jim finally did, it was almost a relief. The release was almost as intense as the gaze and, clearing his throat, buried himself in his work.

It was going to be a long shift.

* * *

Spock gathered his things, feeling completely overwhelmed by the day's trials. It had been a simple work day – gathering samples and data from the many asteroids and space debris they found as they wound their way to Andreus IV. Nothing overly stimulating except for the constant, excruciating reminder of his desire for Jim who seemed to know it and spent his entire shift staring at Spock like he knew his secret. It had been a very uncomfortable shift.

Crossing the bridge quickly, avoiding Jim's gaze, Spock made it to the turbolift just in time. He was not entirely certain whether he wanted Jim to follow him or not. As the turbolift closed behind him, he leaned backwards against the wall. The tension on the bridge had been so thick that he was certain other people had noticed it. He had received several glances from Hikaru and Nyota had been especially cold to him. He had become quite skilled at reading human behavioural patterns.

Rubbing his temples, he heard the chime of the door as it slid open.

"Mr. Spock."

Spock straightened up and looked around.

"Dr. McCoy." Spock nodded.

"That damned fool was at work today?" McCoy asked, eyebrow raised.

"Captain Kirk? Yes, he was." Spock said. "I urged him to return to Sick Bay but he is simply incorrigible."

"Incorrigible is right." McCoy grumbled.

The doors chimed once again and Spock made to step off.

"Hey, Spock." McCoy called after him. "Can you take this to him?"

McCoy ripped a piece of paper off his board and handed it to Spock.

"It's just a summary of the incident." McCoy said. "I figured you'd be heading up to see him anyways."

Spock nodded, feeling dread well up inside him.

"Of course." Spock said, taking the page.

"See ya." McCoy said before disappearing again behind the turbolift doors.

Walking down the corridor towards the common area, he flipped the page over and gave it a quick glance. The page outlined the illness, the symptoms and... his time of death. It was the second time he had seen that on a document in Jim's files.

Stopping dead in his tracks, he made a hard about-turn and headed back to the turbolift. Clutching the piece of paper in his hand so hard he had crumpled it almost into a ball. Within minutes, he was striding across the topmost floor and counting doors. 437... 436... 435...

Spock rang the door bell and waited for a response. When he heard Jim's voice, Spock pushed in and found Jim reading a novel.

"Spock?" Jim asked, immediately noticing Spock's odd behaviour. He took the reading glasses off his nose and set them down on the coffee table in front of him.

"You're wearing spectacles." Spock said, absently, moving towards Jim on the couch.

"You know I'm allergic to... Retinax V..." Jim managed to get out before Spock's lips crashed down against his own.

"Never leave me again." Spock said, pulling Jim towards him as if he weighed nothing.

"Spock – I don't –" Jim said in between kisses.

"Do not leave me." Spock said assertively, holding Jim hard.

"Spock, I didn't leave you!" Jim said, breaking away from Spock for a moment.

"You have left me twice. I have watched you die twice. Do not do it again." Spock said, his voice choked.

"Spock..." Jim said tenderly, reaching up and touching the side of Spock's face gently.

"Do not do it again!" Spock said, firmer than before.

"Spock, that's something I can't promise you. I can promise you anything else. I would promise you the universe but..." Jim kissed Spock gently on the cheek. "We all die, Spock."

Spock opened his mouth to say something, thought better of it, and buried his face into Jim's neck.

For a moment, Jim paused awkwardly, his hand hovering over Spock's head. He was unsure how to comfort the despondent vulcan. One of his arms was trapped by the vice grip Spock had on his body and the other was poised in the air.. He touched Spock's head tentatively and when there was no negative reaction, he stroked Spock's hair. They sat like that for a moment and Spock relaxed the grip he had on Jim.

"You have haunted me, Jim. I have been unable to sleep or think properly for want of you – for frustration at having lost you again so soon. If I can not know when I will lose you then I will have you while I can." Spock said, straightening up and looking down at Jim.

Almost as if they both knew what to do, Jim leaned back on the couch and took Spock's face in his hands. Spock lowered himself down on top of Jim gently so as not to crush him.

"Then you can have me." Jim replied, kissing Spock softly.


End file.
